Cannons
by Workaholic Praxian
Summary: Ironhide is often referred to as 'cannons with a mech attached,' but this wasn't always true. There was a time where he was considered normal.


**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Cannons

* * *

It was said, some jokingly and others completely serious, that Ironhide was two cannons with a mech attached. It most instances, this was considered to be the truth of the matter.

Even before the war, Ironhide was just that, two cannons with a mech attached. It wasn't the other way around. No. The cannons came first, charged up and ready to fire.

Though before that, a long, long, _long_ time ago, Ironhide was created.

Contrary to rumors spread by the Lambo Twins, Ironhide wasn't created with cannons whirling, just waiting to be used. It wasn't his first toy either, but it was close to being so.

* * *

Ironhide was just like most sparklings, optics wide with wonder at his surroundings, a bundle of joy, wrapped up in the softest of cloths and held by loving creators.

Yet Ironhide had something that most didn't have.

Creators who were obsessed with weaponry.

Now most would have thought something like that would explain Ironhide and his fondness of his beloved cannons, but it wasn't. His creators, bots that came from families entrenched with weaponry in order to be bodyguards and soldiers, weapon makers and instructors, wanted their creation to have something they didn't.

His creators wanted to give their bundle of joy the gift of being away from all of that, the violence, danger and potential harm. He would live the life that they were never able to have.

The ability to be _normal_.

To fit in to a society that cherished the peace and prosperity of the Golden Age.

The first few vorns were like an experiment, a bet to see if their sparkling would be able to grow up normally, without the influence of potentially deadly items.

For as long as the family could remember, weapons were everything. At an early age, the younglings would pick the weapon that they would become the masters with. Regardless of how many weapons an individual learned, the first one was always the one they were the best with and the fondest of. It was simply how the family functioned.

The family watched with baited breaths, watching and waiting for the small mech to grow up.

Was their fascination something that was learned or passed down throughout the generations?

Was it actually possible for someone of Ironhide's lineage to grow up clean, far away from the warrior traditions of the family?

Only time would tell.

* * *

Ironhide crawled about his room, carefully padded to protect him from any potential harm. His creators had left, one to go to work and the other to get some energon.

He sat on his aft, pulling his stuffed turbofox from under the dresser where he had carelessly thrown it after being put in his crib to take a nap. Ironhide examined it closely, squeezing the face and giggling at the sight of an optic looking up at him.

Ironhide pulled it close to his chestplates in a hug, humming contently as he heard the footsteps of his sire coming down the hall. He was alerted of an empty tank and in response, he started nibbling on the ped of his turbofox, uncaring as the fabric stretched from the abuse.

His sire opened the door, energon cube in hand when the doorbell rang, with a sigh of frustration; he placed the cube on the dresser and went to answer the door, forgetting to close the door behind him.

Ironhide peered out into the hallway, curious about what was going on out there. Abandoning his toy, he journeyed out, moving quickly in the opposite direction of his sire.

It didn't take long for another room to catch his optic, one that was always shut whenever he was taken out of his room. It didn't take much to get the sparkling crawling in the direction of the seemingly forbidden room. The floor appeared to be better maintained than that of the others, scrubbed so well regardless of the fact that it had more wear on it from vorns of hard use.

Ironhide continued in, wanting to get a good look at everything before his sire came looking for him.

Mirrors lined two of the walls, positioned in a way that it seemed as if there were multiple sparklings, each crawling in the same direction and intent on getting to the other side where items lined the walls, some mounted while others were propped up, evident that they were often used.

* * *

His sire, thoroughly distracted by the visitor, forgot all about feeding his sparkling. It wasn't until his bondmate came home, expecting to see him with their sparkling before heading off to his night shift, that he realized that he was severally missing something or rather, someone.

"Where's Iron?" Ironhide's carrier questioned, red paint glistening in the light as she retrieved energon for herself after a hard day of work, crafting high quality blasters for a group of enforcers.

Ironhide's sire looked up from his datapad, black armor shifting uncomfortably at the thought. "He's been awfully quiet today." He got up to check, remembering that he forgot to refuel the sparkling. Usually when he forgot, Ironhide got cranky and would scream and holler to get his attention. Yet a good portion of the cycle had gone by and he hadn't heard from Ironhide.

She followed her bondmate, wanting to show her creation that she was home and read a datapad to him that she picked up from the library during her break.

The two stopped at the open door, turbofox toy lying at the base of the dresser, energon cube sitting undisturbed where Ironhide's sire had left it. "Frag." They muttered at the same time, feeling concerned about the welfare of their sparkling.

Splitting up, they did a thorough scan of the house, checking every nook and cranny for their beloved Ironhide.

"Over here!" Ironhide's sire called out to his bondmate, waiting for her to arrive before going in, wanting her to see their creation lying on the ground, sound asleep with an item wrapped protectively in his arms, a line of drool marking the weapon as his.

They went up to Ironhide, carefully separating him from the weapon and bringing him into his room.

Ironhide woke up, optics watering up with the realization that his new favorite item was missing. Before he could get too upset, he was offered energon, his tank grumbling in response. Reaching out towards it, his creator slowly fed it to him, not wanting the sparkling to get too messy.

* * *

It was Ironhide's first vorn celebration.

Members from all throughout his family showed up, wanting to see how well the sparkling was developing and to join in for some family fun. It wasn't every cycle that a bot celebrated another vorn of existence, especially their first.

Just as they had done for countless millennia to celebrate the first vorn of existence for a new member of the family, those who had weapons with them, which was everyone, hid theirs away in subspace or for those who couldn't do so due to the size or number of weapons on their frame, reluctantly gave them to Ironhide's creators to go into the training room until the celebration was over.

This was meant to be as a safeguard from potentially influencing young bots on what weapon they should choose as their first. Ironhide was a different case, creators intent on shielding him from the traditions of the family, at least until he chose for himself what he wanted at a later date.

The traditions of the first vorn celebration went as normal, energon being swapped just as stories and tales from before the Golden Age were told to eager audios before the energon cake was taken out from the kitchen.

Everything ran smoothly until it was time for Ironhide to receive the second toy that would be officially his. For everyone else, this was where the creators would give their creation a smaller version of the weapon that the sparkling had given significantly more attention to in that first vorn of life. This time, it was different.

Ironhide opened the present with much concentration, revealing a new stuffed animal to replace the turbofox sitting in a clump in the corner of the room, stuffing threatening to spill forth from that long, hard vorn of play.

Ironhide frowned, pushing the toy away and crossing his arms in a show of discontent that had been shown many times on vids that were played once a decacycle in the household when the siblings of his creators came over.

"Oh dear…"

"What now?"

"It's obvious he doesn't like it."

"Did he ever have any contact with weapons?"

"We should get him something else."

"What should we do now?"

With a heavy sigh, his carrier left the room, having a feeling that she knew what he wanted as his new toy. When she came back, she presented the item that they had found Ironhide asleep with half a vorn prior.

Ironhide grinned, eagerly reaching out to the item as he giggled in delight.

With a few exasperated sighs and much good-natured laughing, the family continued on with the celebration, making it official. This was to be Ironhide's first weapon.

* * *

Ironhide was set down to play, his first weapon disabled so that way he didn't accidentally hurt himself or those around him due to inexperience. Unfortunately as he tried crawling away with it, the size made it too heavy for him to carry.

After much thought, Ironhide got behind it and started to roll it, bringing the prized cannon with him to the confines of his room.

Though many aren't willing to believe it, Ironhide was once a sparkling with a cannon attached.


End file.
